Deal With It
by bobdabuilder0804
Summary: Post S4. Jack...


Deal With It.

The room was almost empty and the bare floorboards creaked beneath his weight as he crossed the small space. It was sparsely furnished, a small shelf above the narrow single bed and a small adjourning bathroom. Nothing else, but then he didn't need anything else. In fact, he thought with dread, he didn't need anything at all.

His meagre possessions weren't displayed on the slanted shelf bolted against the wall with two rusty nails, instead the shelf remained empty as a symbol of the future which awaited him. His bag sat on the floor, it had sagged open due to its lack of contents, but those few possessions were now his life. They were him. Or all that was left if him. Before… Before he was forced to become somebody else.

He had thought about his situation as he had trudged down the railway tracks, way past darkness and through the following day break. He could think of nothing else, he had been desperate to find some loop hole, a way out of his predicament. But there was no escape from his situation, the answers he had been searching for weren't to be found, even the questions could no longer exist.

Jack Bauer was a contingent being, and it was time for him to leave the world. Physically or not, it had already been done. But he couldn't throw his life away just yet. One last night, he had promised himself, and then Bauer's gone. He knew it had been stupid to check in to the run down motel as 'Jack.' Just Jack. He knew it was dangerous but he needed to fulfil a last act of defiance against the Chinese.

It had felt good too, despite his exhaustion. He had collapsed onto the thin and lumpy mattress after inspecting his room. Despite the poor condition of his accommodation he could almost pretend everything was normal. It was as though he was just stopping off for a nap during one of the long and excruciatingly boring trips Heller would send him on before the bond of trust between them had developed. He could almost pretend he was Jack Bauer again, and he was. For now. He didn't care to think about what the morning would bring. Not only a new day, he knew, but a new life.

He was beyond tired when he closed his eyes but his sleep was restless. He woke up in a daze after an hour, before passing out again, too tired to comprehend what was going on. He woke later again and it was still dark, he used the light on his watch to illuminate the digital numbers. It was only through the light that he noticed the tears that had fallen as he slept. The pillow was damp and his face sodden. He switched the light back off and dropped his head into the pillow in defeat. He could only imagine what had plagued his dreams to make him react in such a way.

Thankfully he managed to rest after wiping away the tears with his tee. A dreamless one too, which he was grateful for as he had planned himself a busy day. When he woke lunch had been and gone. His body was heavy and his limbs felt like lead, he didn't want to move. The rest had been wonderful but physically, he needed more. He was happy to oblige and rolled over again, pulling the thin sheet which served as a quilt over his head to block out the light streaming in through the one small window.

He knew he didn't need the rest as much as he wanted it, he was going to stay put here for another day or two. The place was quiet despite the paper thin walls, it was almost deserted. He could relax and plan out whatever the hell it was he was going to do, now he was dead.

He knew that when he crawled out of the bed, he would no longer be Jack Bauer. Who was he going to be? He had no idea. But he'd no longer be Jack, that was the only thing he could be certain about.

Sleep wouldn't return this time, so he lay on his back as his eyes bore into the ceiling. Thoughts swirled around in his head but he couldn't focus on them. He was dead, he wasn't supposed to feel anything. Would it be easier if he had been killed? For him, maybe, but not his government or friends. He wouldn't spit the gift of life they had given him back in there faces. He couldn't do that.

Audrey. She thought he was dead. Was she better of believing she had lost the two men in her life, rather than knowing that her lover, the man who murdered her husband was walking around free? As much as it hurt he knew this was easier on her, she would be comforted from his death rather than experience the pain she surely would if he were still alive. After he had been called into CTU they hadn't had a chance. She had been scared of how easily he had slipped back into his former self. He had been scared too, but he couldn't confide in her, he had to protect her. Even though his heart ached as he thought about their loss, he knew it was for the better, for her.

Kim. How the hell could he think of her without hating himself? He couldn't, he felt his frustration at the situation rise, his little girl, an orphan. Maybe she would be told the truth some day, but he knew the words would never come from his own mouth. He couldn't look her in the face again after putting her through so much pain with his faked death. Another ache of the heart he knew he deserved. They had arranged for her and Chase to visit him in Washington the following weekend, he had been planning on introducing her to Audrey. Now she would be attending his funeral instead; maybe the two women he had lost would meet there instead. Did it matter, he wondered?

It shouldn't matter to him anymore, he told himself sternly, but it did, and always would. He rolled onto his side and eyes the bag, a wallet, a cell and a few wads of money loaned to him by Michelle. They were the only things he owned now, the only possessions in the world he could truthfully say belong to him. He had lost everything.

The bathroom looked tempting but he still refused to move. When he left this bed he was leaving his life, and when he left this life he was leaving behind the painful and personal memories of Audrey and his daughter. He could not become a new person if he was dwelling on his old life. He would leave it all behind and casually step into a new life.

He knew that by disallowing himself to grieve for his own loss he was punishing himself even more. Nothing seemed more deserved right now. He had no right to wallow in self pity, but he had every right to suffer.

Eventually Jack dosed off again, and when he awoke drearily, he knew it was time. Something felt right despite the butterflies in his stomach, he was ready to do it. He pushed every personal thought from his brain as he washed his face in the basin, he was now focused on one thing - pushing it all away. The strain of his actions and the haunting past had to be forgotten. As he showered he couldn't help but think of the symbolism of the act, he was washing the life of Jack Bauer away. He was ready to become somebody else.

He felt clean as he pulled his crumpled jeans on and grabbed the only other tee he had with him. He smoothed his rumpled cloths down as he perched on the end of the bed. Who did he want to be?

Tony would sort out his new past and present, so he didn't have to worry about money or a job, he was thankful he didn't have to think those aspects of his new life over as well.

A name… he didn't think it would be as hard as it was to chose a new name. He thought about Daniel but then dismissed it. As nice a little tribute as it would have been to his old man, it would be something that would connect him to Bauer, something which would help him relate to the old life. He couldn't take the chance, as much as the risk appealed to him. He couldn't put the people who had helped him in danger, he had to play it safe. Despite his urges to go back to the Embassy and tell Chinese to stick it up themselves, he had to stay hidden.

He chuckled at his childish thoughts and immediately thought back to Kim when she was just a child. But now she's an adult… he, wondered just how the time managed to pass by so quickly and discreetly. He emptied the contents of his bag onto the bed and grabbed the toothbrush as he thought about Kim. He had told himself he wasn't allowed to think of her, but realised it was silly. It wasn't like he could suddenly forget the past 38 years of his life, and it would be absurd to even try.

He didn't feel like Jack Bauer anymore, he realised, as he spat out the paste and looked up into the dirty mirror tacked against the wall, again lopsided. He felt some comfort as he continued to stare at the man looking back at him. He could still be a new person with the memories of the old one. He felt better with this revelation, he memories would hurt but with them he would never be truly dead inside.

He stretched in the small room and threw his things back into the bag again, pulling it over his shoulders and slipping his shades onto the neck of his tee. He wasn't going to stay here any longer after all. He could move on without leaving the memories behind. It was a rough deal but it was better than nothing, he thought as again the image of Kimberly fluttered through his senses.

It had to be done, he told himself sternly as he left the motel and found the railway tracks once more. He felt his emotions peak again but refused to give himself the release of crying. He would hold it all in, he had no choice but to keep it all together. He dug his hands deep into his jeans and fought for control over himself. It wouldn't be easy and it wouldn't be fun, but when did life ever go easy on him?

As he walked through another sun set he smiled sadly, Christopher Stevenson would have to learn to do what Bauer did, and deal with it.

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